Chapter 5 Josh tried calling James a couple of more times during the week, but each time all he got was an answering machine. It was like he was never home. By the time Thursday rolled around, he was getting worried. Maybe his aggressiveness had scared James away. He cursed himself for pushing the other man. He was from Mississippi, for God's sakes. Not some New Yorker that moved way too fast. He hoped he hadn't ruined whatever had been starting with James. He blamed it all on Lance. That voice, and their calls. It had turned him into something he wasn't. Someone he didn't know if he liked very much. That's it. No more calls to Lance. Not one. If James was to call him, he would forget that Lance ever existed. As hard as it would be to forget that deep rich bass voice that was nothing but pure unadulterated sex. 'Stop it, Josh!' You need to stop thinking about Lance. you have no clue who this guy is. He is just a voice on a phone. He isn't real. James is real. Sitting on his balcony, he looked out at the skyline sipping a class of wine. He eyed the cordless phone. Hoping that it would ring and it would be James. About ten minutes later, the phone did ring, startling him from his thoughts. He reached over and answered the phone. "Josh here." "Hi, Josh. It's me, James." Smiling, Josh put down his glass. "I'm glad you called." "Yeah?" James asked quietly. "Yeah, I wanted to apologize for the other night." James sighed. "You don't have to." "Yes, I do. I don't know what came over me. I am so not like that." "It's okay, Josh. Let's just forget it happened, and move on." "Well, okay." Josh picked up his glass and took a quick sip. "Hmm, so would you like to do something tomorrow night?" There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Josh silently cursed himself again for jumping too fast. "If you don't want to, that's okay." "No, I want to. I was just checking something. Tomorrow night would be great. Where should we meet?" "Why don't you to come to my place. I don't cook much, but we can order in." "Sounds good to me. How about eight?" "Okay. See ya then." Josh hung up the phone, happy that James hadn't run away and would let him have another chance after the other night. He went to bed without one thought of Lance on his mind. The next night, Josh got home from work around 7:00. He immediately jumped in the shower, and got dressed in comfortable khaki's and a blue button down shirt. He went through the living room and straightened up a little finishing just as their was a knock on the door. When he opened the door, he found James standing on the other side. Josh glanced up and down, briefly losing all sense of coherent speech. How can one guy be so shy and so sexy? From his glasses to his white button down shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, he just looked so good. He noticed James looking at him with a slight smile on his face. Neither spoke. Josh just moved aside, and let James enter. As James walked into the living room, you could see the awe he had of Josh's apartment. It was definitely nicer than his small place. He immediately went over to the balcony and looked out at the skyline. Josh walked up behind him and placed a hand on his back. "Josh, the view is wonderful from up here." "Yeah, it is. I just love coming out here at night and watching everything." Josh took a step back and walked back too the kitchen. "Would you like something to drink? I've got almost everything here. Wine, scotch, beer?" James turned his head and caught Josh's gaze as he stood in the doorway. "Wine sounds good." Josh left the doorway and returned a few minutes later with two glasses of wine. Handing one to James, he smiled. "I'm glad you decided to come over tonight." The way Josh was touching him, so subtly, sent shudders through James. He tried to focus on breathing, on keeping his cool and remaining steady. Previous relationships had failed miserably, mostly due to his hesitant sexual progression. He didn’t meant to go so slowly -- push the whole sex thing off with such a vengeance, but he’d been taught in small town USA -- in church and with a momma who preached sex and marriage in the same breath. Being gay had spun him around on beliefs. The same, only he couldn’t very well wait for legal marriage now. James sighed, unwilling to dredge up such thoughts when he was enjoying Josh so much. His phone job was still a concern though. Wondering if things *did* go any further how he could possible explain it away. Working nights would surely put a cramp in dates with Josh, and for the first time since being in the city, he *wanted* to date. Talking sex all night did nothing to stop that need. “Where are you?” Josh murmured from behind, allowing his arms to wrap around James’ stomach. “You look so far away. Can I join you?” James sipped his wine, daring to lean back into those arms, relishing the feel of someone close. The only man he’d ever been with was Justin and that had been more out of mutual need than anything -- a blossomed friendship that had landed them in each others arms. With nothing but friendship returning in the morning. Both searching, neither finding -- not in one another at least. James sighed and did lean back, enjoying the feel of Josh’s arms around him. And when Josh began to nibble at his neck, he didn’t recoil. The feel of warm lips over his cool skin was heaven, and he tipped back, letting his head fall over Josh’s shoulder. He knew his fingers were trembling as they wrapped around the stem of the crystal wine glass, and he knew he should pull away, fearful to let anyone in so close. Because, he thought, if Josh was expecting sex, this could be misconstrued as a prelude. It wasn’t supposed to feel so good -- so right as Josh tugged at the hem of his shirt, lifting it up, grazing the skin of his stomach lightly. It wasn’t supposed to send desire straight to his groin -- and make his blood sear hotly through his veins. “Josh,” James pleaded. “I uh.” He what? He wasn’t sure. He felt what Josh wanted pressing against his ass -- he wasn’t *that* dense. It *was* a preface to some kind of sexual interlude. Voices hummed vulgarly in his ear -- the sound of lonely men aching for some satisfaction from the sound of him. Demanding to hear words that he never said face to face. Guilt racked him as Josh’s hands splayed across his stomach, flattening along his skin, pressing doggedly. James sucked in sharply as Josh’s pinky danced along his belly button. He was not in control -- not like he was on the phone. This was the land of lost lust -- of over powering selfish yearning. Josh let his mouth dash along James’ neck, the taste of his skin so clean, the stubble so rough against his soft lips. He wanted to let his hands move lower, feel for himself if James was as excited as he was. But he felt James tense suddenly, and forced himself back. Jesus, he was doing it again. Backing away, Josh gritted his teeth. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, raking his fingers through his hair. James turned, his face illuminated by moonlight, a fervent glaze cloaking the jade of his eyes. And Josh knew it was mutual. That whatever had brought them together was not routine. It was connection -- fate. It was two people who were so enamored with one another that it was okay to go slow. Neither was going anywhere. A shiver ran over James as Josh stared at him. His heart throbbed in time with his pulse, and his vision blurred as bottomless blue eyes stared guiltily at him. “I’m sorry,” Josh whispered again, stuffing his hands into his pockets, wishing James wasn’t so intense with his aura. Wishing that mystical and mysterious entity was more simple to understand. James placed his glass down and smiled, showing the dimple off in his cheek, letting his guard fall a bit in the haze of want surrounding him. Willing to discard his personal morals for Josh -- for that truth he saw. The wine settled fuzzily into him, and he stepped closer, resting his hands on Josh’s waist, urging him closer with an encouraging grin. “I’m not sorry,” he said lowly, lifting his face to meet Josh’s. “I’m not sorry, but I have to tell you, be honest with you okay?” Josh nodded, swallowing thickly, able to smell James’ cologne clearly, letting his arms encircle James once more -- cherishing the feel of him. “Okay. Honesty is good.” “I’m not going to have sex with you tonight.” James brushed his lips across Josh’s lightly. “Maybe not for a real long time. I’m not about that.” He dragged his mouth over Josh’s cheek, down his jaw line. “I’ve only been with one other guy. All my other relationships have stopped at ... well, let’s just say they stopped.” James let his lips peck along Josh’s neck, coaxing a moan from him. “That’s very admirable of you,” Josh groaned gruffly. “I respect that.” James chuckled lowly, relived. Embarrassed to have to even say the words. He bit his lip and pulled back. “I could use another glass of wine,” he admitted, hoping it would serve to calm his nerves a bit. “Wine?” Josh asked, letting his hands drop. “Wine. Right. I’ll get the wine and we can talk some more.” He smiled and sighed, reaching over to pluck the nearly empty wine glasses from their spot. Once in the kitchen he let out a long, shaky sigh. Deliriously happy. Excited. Intrigued. Enamored. Quickly, he reached down inside his pants to adjust the erection that had sprung up so wantonly. Not sure how he would deal with having to wait with James -- but as his gaze fell out of the kitchen, through the balcony doors to the fragile, innocent soul standing out there, he had renewed hope in himself and his abilities to control his urges. Pouring the wine glasses full, he thought of Lance. Wondering if maybe Lance couldn’t help the apparent long road of waiting he had. “Fucking great Josh,” he seethed to himself. “Can’t get your mind outta the gutter for one night.” He was angry at himself, pissed that Lance had managed to creep up on him when he was staring at a bright new future with James. Taking the glasses in his hands, he made his way back out into the night air, and handed one over. “So,” he said with a timid smile. “Have a seat. Tell me all about acting -- and Mississippi. Hell, tell me about it all.” Josh kicked his feet up on the balcony rail and leaned back, sipping his wine, letting the relaxation of the night sail over him, erasing worries -- and Lance. James sat beside him, and mimicked his moves, waltzing easily into the replay of his life. Discussing family, pets, growing up. His eventual move to the city. Previous boyfriends, previous girlfriends. His faith. His hopes. Leaving out his dirty little secret -- carefully. Even as Josh appeared with more wine later on. Not used to drinking so much. Letting the city lights wash over him in a kind blur. Allowing Josh to rub his knee, and stroke his thigh. Aching into the feeling as he grew hard. Wanting to go into that bedroom and do things he’d only done with one other person. Josh had his hand, and was pulling him up. And he was giggling, like a girl he thought, all giddy and high pitched. He felt strong arms around him, and a hot kiss press against his neck. “Josh,” he warned sloppily. “S’okay,” Josh said as he lowered him to the bed. “You’re drunk. I’m going to let you stay here tonight okay?” James saw the ceiling fan overhead spin mercilessly, fantastically. He laughed as his shirt was being unbuttoned, as Josh’s fingertips were brushing innocuously against his skin. His nipples hardened, craving to be toyed with, and as his eyes gazed downward, he saw the unforgiving bulge that revealed his excitement. “Oops,” he laughed, throwing his head back again. Josh swam above him, fumbling with his pants, tugging them off. And James sighed heavily, wishing he hadn’t preached like the Southern Baptist he was, wishing he’d said nothing and just taken advantage of the God-like body kneeling next to him. Longing to touch the smooth skin hidden by that shirt -- wondering just what treasure would be revealed under those pants. He reached out, unthinking, and let his hand graze along the crotch of Josh’s pants, moaning at the feel of his erection. “Oh shit,” he gasped, blinking up. Josh froze as James made contact. His jaw set roughly and he reaffirmed to himself that he would not take this any further. That he would be the gentleman of his original intent and simply put James to bed. That there was no way in fuck he was going to touch James while he was this drunk. But there was that hand again, this time more adamantly, this time more expertly. And try as he might, the groan still came out. Fuck. “James,” he whispered, looking down into sea glass eyes -- eyes that were droopy with desire and want. “Stop.” “Mmhmm,” James mumbled with a smile. But his hand didn’t falter. It stroked harder and his other hand reached up to yank Josh down. Forcefully. “I take it back,” James whimpered as he kissed Josh. “All of it. I don’t have to go slow.” Josh sprang up, in shock, in fear his morals would bow out. James was simply too sexy -- too much. “I’ll be on the couch,” he whispered. “If you need me.” He backed out of the room, trembling, and snapped the light off. “I do need you,” James cried with a laugh. “I need you now!” His eyes shut and he rolled onto his side, burrowing his head in Josh’s pillow drunkenly. “Ooh baby, I need you,” he said -- phone sex voice in full steam. Then he giggled before passing out cold. Josh collapsed onto his couch, shaking from restraint. His eyes throbbed with a pre-hangover and he sighed as he threw the throw over his body. Sleep could not take him fast enough. ********* James woke with a start, his mouth dry and cottony. He blinked in the dark and rolled over, landing on the floor with a thud. “Jesus,” he gasped, as his temples sang. “Oh mother! Dammit!” He struggled to his feet and felt around with his hands, switching the wall light on. Bathroom straight ahead. He stumbled inside to look for aspirin, convinced if he could swallow some down, it would avoid further pain in the morning. A quick check of the medicine cabinet revealed his solution, and he popped four of them into his mouth. Cupping some water in his hand, he drank some down, then splashed some on his face. The toilet called, and he relived himself drowsily, washing his hands afterward and grabbing a towel. An ivory towel. With burgundy monogram. James stood stone still -- letting his finger trace over the letters -- feeling the throb in his head sink to his heart -- hoping against hope that it simply had to be coincidence. The initials flashed back at him. JC. Chapter Four More Than Words Menu Chapter Six